


Can't Fake It

by acatalepsy



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bisexual Yasmin Khan, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Gen, Gratuitous Depictions of Thirteen in a Hawaiian Shirt, Hate Speech, Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Thirteenth Doctor, Mentions of River/Thirteen, Space Dad Thirteen, Surprise Ending, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 00:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16506023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acatalepsy/pseuds/acatalepsy
Summary: “Doctor, I …” She clears her throat. “I’m bisexual.”The words hang in the air.She doesn’t know what she’s expecting. The Doctor is an alien after all — and at that one who seems to not abide by any real anthropocentric ideas of gender or sexuality. In hindsight she probably should have anticipated what comes next.———After getting into a fight with a bigot while taking a day trip to a leisure planet Yaz ends up coming out to the Doctor who tries her best to offer some words of comfort.





	Can't Fake It

**Author's Note:**

> days two and three of nanowrimo !!  
> if i manage to keep this up for over a week it's gonna be a gd christmas miracle.
> 
> this fic is actually a little bit different to anything i've ever done before. usually i only write oneshots with about one or two separate scenes as opposed to however many i've got here. let me know if you like stuff being longer or whether i should keep things short and sweet! this is totally new to me and i have no idea whether it's actually enjoyable or just a total one-stop-trip to Snore Town.
> 
> also — just a lil forewarning: there is quite a bit of explicit homophobia in here as well as references to specifically religion-based homophobia from yaz' family members. i don't seek to paint any specific religion in a negative light at all, this is just a way of me reflecting the struggles that i have faced and have seen my friends go through !!
> 
> title comes from 'GRRRLS' by AViVA which is fun to imagine yaz listening angstily to on her ipod.
> 
> thanks 4 reading, homies !!

Yasmin Khan is not having a very good day. In fact, on a scale of Brilliant to Imminent-Alien-Invasion this day is currently weighing in somewhere around Pretty Darn Terrible. Thankfully it’s not one of those ‘my life is in immediate danger due to giant radioactive spiders, robotic sentries, or killer bandages’ type of days however, but still — one of those ones where it feels a bit like death by a thousand tiny grievances.

When she gets up for work that morning she somehow manages to sleep through her alarm (if she’s being honest probably because of jetlag induced by her extracurricular intergalactic activities) and proceeds to get to the precinct over half an hour late, not only helping to solidify whatever contempt her superior officers already have for her, but also managing to crystallise her lifetime sentence of relegation to being a goddamn meter maid. Ah, the wondrous world of parking violations. At several points during the day she actually finds herself _missing_ the giant spiders — at least they were interesting. This just feels like her soul is slowly being chipped away at one parking ticket at a time.

By the time she’s walking home and getting obscenities yelled at her from a passing car by some middle-aged white men so obnoxious that they can’t even manage to come up with even remotely creative slurs, she’s about ready to throw in the towel and just take up permanent residence in the TARDIS, because Earth? Earth _sucks_.

That familiar groaning, wheezing sound of the ship materialising at the street corner below can’t come any sooner. The moment Yaz hears it she shouts a quick goodbye to her mum and practically flies down the steps from her flat, taking them two at a time, bounding up to the TARDIS’ door to fling it open.

Graham and Ryan are already inside — Ryan sitting sprawled out on the control room floor, restocking his polaroid with film while Graham peers over the Doctor’s shoulder, asking her questions about the different controls.

As Yaz enters the Doctor jumps up from where she’s hunched over the console and throws her hands up in the air, beaming. “Yaz!”

She’s sporting an oversized Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and a pair of large, dark sunglasses that are sloping low on her nose. Despite this, she’s still got her coat on — which in all honesty should look ridiculous but as much as Yaz would never admit it she somehow manages to pull this off. Maybe it’s just the dorky alien charm.

“Doctor!” she exclaims with genuine relief. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

“Rough day?” Ryan asks sympathetically, hitting his camera a couple of times with the back of his hand and then frowning at it as it spits the film back out at him.

“You could say that,” Yaz rolls her eyes thinking back to the trials of that morning. “I think if I have to file one more parking violation I’m going to just turn myself right over to the Stenza.”

“That bad?” Graham asks.

“You have no idea.”

The Doctor then reaches down beneath the TARDIS’ controls, seeming to pull a neon multicoloured lei out of nowhere. She tosses it over and Yaz barely has time to catch it.

“Well! Good thing we’re going to Limnos 4 then, huh?” The Doctor claps her hands together, yanking one of the ship’s many levers with a flourish. “One of the most technologically advanced leisure planets this side of the cosmos! For the twenty-third century its facilities are pretty much state-of-the-art.”

A … _leisure planet?_

Yaz frowns and then shrugs, stringing the lei around her neck. “A leisure planet? Is that like, an entire _planet_ dedicated to relaxation?”

“Spot on!” The Doctor nods.

“‘Bit weird isn’t it? I mean … a planet for commercial entertainment?” Graham frowns and Ryan lets out a groan which he pointedly ignores. “Don’t people live there?”

“Well, you know humans. The second you developed the tools for space travel you were hell-bent on taking capitalism to the stars. Thankfully Limnos is one of the more humane leisure worlds out there.”

“And we’re just going to be sitting around? Like, _proper_ relaxing?” Ryan raises an eyebrow. “Not to be rude or anything but that doesn’t exactly seem to be in your wheelhouse.”

“He’s got a point, Doc. We do usually end up doing an awful lot of running whenever you show up.”

The Doctor shakes her head, carefully adjusting the axis the hourglass embedded into the console is sitting at. “Like I said, state of the art facilities! Non-gravitational swimming pools, accelerated learning experiences, robotic gladiators … They’ve got everything. Personally I’m just looking forward to hitting the beach — I want to see if this new body is able to tan. With my last dozen or so faces I haven’t been so successful.”

Yaz isn’t sure whether to let the Doctor down gently on that one or not. Her bets are definitely on her getting burnt to a crisp, but instead she opts for staying silent.

“Sorry, but did you just say _robotic gladiators_? That sounds _wicked_.” Ryan grins.

“Ah. About that … I don’t actually have the best track record with ABBA. Sorry, Ryan. ’Might’ve got a lifetime ban after winning a few too many tournaments in a row with my robot dog, K9. ‘Authorities started getting suspicious.”

Graham splutters, “ABBA? As in the Swedish pop group?”

“No, no. The _other_ ABBA. The Aphelion BattleBots Association — they run the Robotic Combat Sports tournaments on Limnos. Although … I did meet Björn back in ’74. We got on so well he decided to write a song about me. I think it was called ‘Dancing Queen’?”

The look Graham gives Yaz is so comically concerned it takes everything in her to keep from bursting out laughing.

“And you named your dog K9?” Ryan asks quizzically, apparently less interested in the fact that the Doctor just insinuated that she was somehow literally the inspiration for the ‘Dancing Queen’ and more interested in semantics.

“Yes, and it’s a perfectly good name too so I better not hear a word against it.”

Ryan mimes zipping his mouth shut.

“Right, you lot! ‘Best hold onto something!”

As Yaz makes a mad dash for the pillar next to Ryan, gripping on tightly as the TARDIS begins to whirr into action, her terrible day earlier is all but forgotten. She’s fully ready for some relaxation. Unfortunately, as usual, things don’t quite work out that way.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

 

They arrive on Limnos 4 quickly and with relative ease — which in Yaz’ opinion is pretty freaking amazing. After the fourteen separate attempts it took to get them from Desolation back to Sheffield she was initially pretty hesitant to get back in the TARDIS at all — not because of the unpredictability surrounding where they would be going, but the fact that she legitimately doesn’t know if the Doctor actually knows how to get them back home again without spending another five hours hopping across the galaxy. The fact that they arrive on the sunny little planet in mere minutes is pleasantly surprising.

It’s as breathtakingly gorgeous as the Doctor said it would be. The skies are pale pink and at the horizon line Yaz can see the crest of the planet’s three pure white adjacent rings curving up and around them like a dome. The grass beneath their feet is fluffy and candy-red.

“TA-DA!” the Doctor exclaims, gesturing around herself broadly. “Welcome, _fam_ , to your first leisure world, Limnos 4!”

She whips off her sunglasses and squints up at the sky, taking a deep breath in. Yaz does the same. The air smells faintly like the strawberry lip balm of a girl she used to know in Year 12 and sunscreen. It’s lovely.

“… Do you smell that?” The Doctor asks, looking around at them with a knowing smile.

“The strawberries?” Yaz asks.

“What are you talking about?” Ryan shakes his head in disagreement. “It’s more metallic, like … petrol?”

Graham closes his eyes, concentrating. “‘Thought it was more like that old book smell, myself. Maybe with some jasmine?”

“Technically, you’re all correct! Harmless temporary sensory reprogramming.” She taps her temple twice. “There’s an energy field around the planet that transmits a frequency able to manipulate your nervous system ever so slightly in order to provoke an acute synesthesia response. What you think you’re smelling now is actually calculated based upon your own happiest memories. It’s incredibly fascinating stuff. Personally for me this planet has always carried the distinct scent of New New York’s best approximation of a London chip shop.”

“Wait …” Yaz turns to Ryan. “So you’re telling me that your favourite smell is literally petrol?”

“Listen — I don’t know why, okay! I just like it!”

“That explains so so much.” Yaz deadpans, shaking her head and Ryan punches her playfully in the arm.

“ _Shut up_.”

As they start heading towards the nearby shops the Doctor quickly cuts in again. “Oh. And probably don’t touch anything unless I say so. Yes, this is a planet built for entertainment, but everything here is new and alien to you, so _try_ to be careful.”

She says this to all of them but seems to only be making eye-contact with Ryan.

“What are you lookin’ at me for?” He crosses his arms.

“No reason!” She spins back around. “Now. This planet always makes me hungry. Who’s up for some chips? ‘Love some good chips.”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

 

Despite about a half hour of searching, though, unfortunately they don’t end up finding a chip shop, and instead end up settling for the next best thing — a bar and bistro located in the epicentre of the capital with a sign above it with what looks like a type of Earth rhinoceros carved into it below large cursive text reading ‘The Blue Judoon’. When they finally make it inside the place is absolutely packed, but somehow through the use of what the Doctor offhandedly refers to as ‘psychic paper’ they manage to get a seat on account of being ‘Certified Leisure Palace Health Inspectors’.

Glancing around the dimly lit room, Yaz is fascinated by all the alien creatures of countless different species. It’s like something out of Star Trek. The mundanity of it all is amazing — all of these species getting along, chatting and eating together like its nothing. Sitting on stools at the bar she spots what appear to be two women — one impossibly beautiful with bright green skin and pure white hair, the other slightly shorter with long, pointed ears and eyes that appeared to be glowing a faint yellow. As they lean in to kiss Yaz quickly averts her gaze, feeling like she’s intruding on a somewhat private moment and silently hoping the others haven’t caught her staring.

“What’re you thinkin’ of getting?”

Yaz jumps.

“‘Cause I have no idea what any of this stuff is.” Ryan is leaning in and talking to her loudly, trying to be heard over the chatter around them and the band playing on the stage at the centre of the room. The music sounds a bit like what would be referred to on Earth as jazz, except with the added layer of it being played by half-insect, half-reptilians and interspersed with various clicking noises and odd vocalisations.

“Uh …” Yaz peers down at her menu for the first time. Even though the TARDIS’ translation circuit seems to be doing its best the whole thing is pretty much incomprehensible to her. _Kronkburgers?_ _Gaffabeque?_ “I don’t really want to risk it. Maybe whatever the Doctor’s having?”

She looks over to see her in deep conversation, gesturing emphatically at one of the waitresses who keeps glancing over her shoulder back at the bar, vaguely despairing. “Did you know that this place doesn’t have a chip shop? Really — what’s a leisure planet without a chip shop? Twenty-third century dining and not _one_ chip-based establishment?”

“May I suggest the Ptoronian Style Wedges?”

The Doctor sighs, resigned. “S’pose so. Yaz, Ryan, Graham?”

There’s a brief pause where the three of them all just look at each other before Yaz finally says, “I’ll just have what you’re having.”

“I second that!” Ryan says and Graham nods.

As the waitress heads off, finally free from the Doctor’s ramblings, she leans over the table towards them, whispering conspiratorially.

“Now, Ryan. I know I said that _technically_ ABBA won’t let me onto their premises — but I think, because they are yet to see me with this _specific_ face, I might be able to sneak us in. Whaddaya say?”

Just as Ryan looks from Yaz to Graham, eyes lighting up hopefully, undoubtedly about to reply with an ecstatic _of course_ there’s a sudden crash and scuffle from the bar.

Yaz’ head whips up to see the two women from before in some sort of stand-off with a scrawny man with vivid purple skin and a large leather jacket not unlike her own. The white haired lady stands defensively in front of her partner, eyes blazing.

“All I’m saying is that I don’t have a _problem_ with what you’re doing here but I think we’d all appreciate it if we could just eat in peace without having you flaunting it.” The man looks around the bar, gesturing around as if these ideas are unanimous. “I mean — this is a _public_ establishment. It’s for _everyone_.”

There’s no way this is happening. Not in bloody _space._ Yaz can already feel her face getting hot. But maybe she’s got it wrong — maybe this isn’t what she thinks it is.

She looks round the table to gauge her friends’ reactions. The Doctor can’t seem to believe what she’s hearing either. Her eyes are wide with shock, mouth hanging slightly open.

“What’s going on?” Ryan asks, peering past Graham who is shaking his head, gaze downcast.

“Look. We’re just trying to have our meal,” the woman bites out. “And I don’t appreciate you talking to my wife the way you just did.”

“Your _wife?”_ He scoffs. “This side of the galaxy?”

“Yes, _this_ _side of the galaxy_ ,” the shorter woman pipes up. “I don’t know what planet you come from but around here people are actually allowed to marry whoever they want.”

The man takes a step forward, voice low and threatening. “Now, I’ll have you know that I don’t appreciate being talked down to by a pair of filthy —”

Before she knows it Yaz seems to find herself halfway across the room, marching towards the pompous moron, hands curled tightly into fists.

It’s like everything that day, the sexism at work, the slurs, the catcalling, plus everything that’s been going on at home at the moment … It’s all finally come to a head. She’s just _so sick_ of feeling like she has to justify her presence everywhere she goes. And maybe she’s taking this whole thing a little too personally — but at this point she doesn’t care. She’s seething.

“HEY!” she yells causing the man to spin around, confused.

“What—”

She punches him square in the jaw, using all of her strength, throwing her shoulder into an uppercut. It feels _incredible._ He stumbles backwards in shock, swearing profusely.

“Yaz!”

The Doctor is shouting something at her from across the room but she can’t hear over the ringing in her ears and her harsh breathing. She _knows_ the Doctor will be mad at her for resorting to violence, even feels bad about being unprofessional just off of principle as a police officer, but the idea of homophobia still somehow managing to thrive in a distant galaxy in bloody 4876 is enough to make her see white.

“Oh my god …” Yaz faintly registers Ryan’s voice in the distance.

“I don’t have a vortex manipulator on me right now but if I did just know I’d be sending you right back to the twentieth century, or better yet the Stone Age where you belong.” She pants, heart racing, staring the bigot down as he rubs his soon to be bruised face with the palm of his hand.

Then, everything happens so quickly. One moment she’s towering before him, jaw clenched, the next — there’s a gun in her face. It’s not like anything she’s ever seen before — definitely some sort of alien tech. What she is sure of, though, is its lethality.

“OI!” The Doctor yells. “Put the gun down! What _is it_ with you people and guns?”

He turns, looking her up and down. “And why should I listen to you, _lady?”_

 _“Lady?_ Who are you— Oh. Right.” She groans and shakes her head before crossing the room, a scowl painted across her features. “In accordance with Convention 15 sanctioned by the Shadow Proclamation I demand you retire your weapon or otherwise leave this establishment _right now._ ”

His gun is now trained on her.

“A member of the _Space Police_ now _,_ are we?”

The look the Doctor is giving him is so scathing that it causes Yaz to shudder.

“Go home,” she says in a voice that is so calm and measured its somehow much scarier than if she had yelled. _Trust the Doctor to manage to be threatening while wearing a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts …_

He hesitates, dropping his gun to his side before glancing around sheepishly at the now silent bar. He scoffs again, obviously deciding that whatever he’s trying to do isn’t worth it and makes a big show of stalking out in front of the bar’s staff. As he leaves the couple offer Yaz and the Doctor a quick word of thanks before also making their way out, evidently wanting to escape the watchful eyes of the bar’s patrons who just saw everything unfold. _What a great night out they must be having_ , Yaz thinks bitterly.

Soon the chatter seems to pick up once more, people going back to their evenings and Yaz is finally able to let out a shaky breath. The adrenaline still left in her body is making her feel jittery. She has it in her right mind to just try to go back to eating, pretend like nothing happened, but then she makes eye contact with the Doctor — and she doesn’t look pleased.

“Yaz …” the Doctor begins, pulling her aside. Yaz has never seen her look so disappointed with her before. “What were you _thinking?”_

A sudden spark of anger takes her off-guard. What the Doctor says just rubs her up the wrong way. Sure, she abhors violence but is she really always such a _pushover?_ Even in situations like this?

“Sorry, but what was I _supposed_ to do? _Nothing?_ ”

“There’s always a nonviolent way to handle things.”

“So what, I punched him in the face. The guy didn’t exactly seem like the type to be reasoned with.”

“‘Bit overly invested for an ally there, huh, Yaz?” Ryan cuts with a smirk before the Doctor can say anything else.

And that? _That_ is the last straw. She can already feel the tears gathering in her eyes as Graham begins to scold him under his breath for being insensitive because _God, she’s so obvious, isn’t she?_

She doesn’t think she’ll be able to stand it if the rest of the team get to see her cry so she turns on her heel and stomps out of the bar before they can say anything, ignoring the Doctor as she calls after her in dismay and blindly shoving past people until she’s out in the fresh air of the street. The strawberry scented air now only makes her feel nauseous.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

 

When the Doctor finally manages to find her again she’s sat in the east wing of the TARDIS’ observatory, watching the shifting projections of distant galaxies and stars creeping up the walls. The pale pink sky of Limnos 4 filters in through the glass panels overhead giving the whole space a washed out rosy hue.

She’s not quite sure she’s ready to talk to anyone yet and the Doctor probably realises this because she just sits down next to her wordlessly and they stay like that for a while, side by side just watching the star charts as they go by.

Eventually the Doctor speaks, not looking away from the projections. Her blonde hair falls around her face in curtains, almost like a shield. Yaz can’t quite make out her face.

“I’m sorry for what happened back there. And I’m sorry for not understanding why you did what you did.”

Yaz hums leaning her forehead against the wall. The surface is cool beneath her skin.

“Something it took me a long while to learn is that I’m not necessarily a paragon of morality. Well. ‘Still trying to learn that, a bit. What I said was unfair.”

“It’s all right, Doctor. I get it.” She sighs. And she does get it. It felt unlike her to just fly off the handle like that. “I didn’t like what I did either. I was just so … _angry_.”

“Yeah.”

Yaz sniffs, wipes the tears away from her eyes that have for some reason decided to resurface. She doesn't know what compels her to say what she does next. Maybe because for some reason that she can’t quite explain she’d trust the Doctor with anything, even though she’s only known her for a few short months.

“Doctor, I …” She clears her throat. “I’m bisexual.”

The words hang in the air.

She doesn’t know what she’s expecting. The Doctor _is_ an alien after all — and at that one who seems to not abide by any real anthropocentric ideas of gender or sexuality. In hindsight she probably should have anticipated what comes next.

“I know.”

“You do?”

She nods. “Well, I figured so much after what happened back at the apartment. Y’know — with your mum.”

Yaz lets out a watery laugh. “Right, that. Yeah. She’s great. It’s great. Everything’s fine but …” She trails off, not sure if she wants to continue.

“But?” the Doctor asks quietly.

“My dad doesn’t know.”

“Oh.”

Another long silence.

“Because of—”

“The religious thing?” Yaz finishes her sentence and the Doctor winces. “Yeah. I … I know I’ll have to tell him eventually. I want to. I just want to have my own place when I do it, you know?”

She leaves the very real threat of her getting kicked out unspoken but thankfully the Doctor doesn’t need her to say it out loud for her to understand.

“I’m sorry, Yaz,” she says, and somehow Yaz gets the genuine feeling that she means it. “For what it’s worth … It’s obvious that your parents really love you and people do come around, even if it doesn’t feel like it. I’ve seen it before. They just sometimes need some time.”

Yaz sighs. “I know. It’s just — sometimes it gets so hard feeling like I’m always having to hide parts of myself to make other people comfortable.”

The Doctor gently squeezes her shoulder and she can’t help but lean into the touch. “I know it’s not much, but you’ve got us — and I promise you, the universe is so much more than the little corners of it we sometimes find ourselves stuck in.”

Somehow this simple statement alone makes her feel a lot better about her entire day in general and not just the homophobia from earlier.

“And if you ever need a place to stay … Well. The TARDIS door is always open. I also make quite a good surrogate dad if you’re ever in the market for one. Two thousand years of paternal instincts. I am _extremely_ qualified.”

“I don’t doubt that you are.” Yaz smiles, a proper smile this time, but then suddenly she can’t help but think back to Ryan and Graham at the bar and Ryan’s stupid comment and she groans.

“The others must think I’m such an nutter now. God, that’s embarrassing.”

“You know they don’t think that.”

“I just—” She feels her face twist in consternation. “I don’t know what they’ll think of me now. I don’t want them to … to treat me any differently. People get awkward around me when they find out, like — they don’t know what to say or somethin’.”

The Doctor nods slowly, scrunching up her face in thought. “Well, then! If they have anything to say about it or behave ‘awkwardly’ like you say I’ll just organise for them to have a little meeting with my wife. She’s a lot more confrontational than me, if you can believe it.” She shoots Yaz a shy smile.

Okay. She was _not_ expecting that.

The Doctor continues to ramble. “I mean — I suppose since I like women I’m also gay now? By your human standards. Although, my gender is a bit … _wibbly_. It doesn’t make much sense to me so it probably doesn’t to you either. I wonder if she’d like this face …” the Doctor trails off in thought.

There is _a lot_ to process there. Yaz isn’t quite sure where to start so she just settles for “Your _wife?”_

“Don’t act so surprised!”

“Sorry, I’m just —” Yaz can’t help but let out the laugh that bubbles up in her chest. “You’re _married_.”

“Once again, ‘don’t really know if I should be offended or not that you’re so surprised that I managed to find someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

“She must be incredibly special.”

“You have _no idea.”_

“But …” Yaz shakes her head, thoughts whirring past faster than she can keep up with them. “But where is she now? Why isn’t she here?”

The Doctor clears her throat, looking away again and Yaz is suddenly struck by the pain she glimpses there.

The Doctor rubs the back of her neck. “Ah, well … Time travel stuff. I’m sure I’ll see her again. Eventually. Once you say goodbye so many times sooner or later you get to a point where it’s just like, _what the hell_ , y’know?” She shrugs her shoulders, trying her best to smile, but its a feeble one at best.

_Has the Doctor been carrying this weight around with her this whole time?_

Yaz guesses that maybe things are a bit more complicated than just ‘time travel stuff’ but that’s where they leave it.

They sit for another long while, watching the stars together when suddenly the Doctor jumps up from where they’re sitting, hands on her hips, seemingly struck with an idea.

“Right, so — as you might’ve guessed Ryan and Graham are currently occupied for the next half-hour or so watching the ABBA tournament finals and I actually have someone I’d _really_ like you to meet! ‘Can’t believe I’m actually saying this.” She shakes her head as if she’s legitimately surprised the words are even leaving her mouth.

 Yaz raises an eyebrow. “Are you setting me up on a date, Doctor?”

“Oh _no._ Definitely not. Actually the _opposite_ of what I’m going for if you’d believe it. Trust me, he’ll flirt with anything that _breathes.”_

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

 

Whatever Yaz is expecting when they step out of the TARDIS it’s certainly not a park somewhere in the middle of central Cardiff. The Doctor seems quite surprised as well. Apparently in triangulating this mystery person’s signal she had no idea where or rather _when_ they were going to end up.

It doesn’t _seem_ like there’s any immediately pressing alien threat around, though, which is incredibly promising.

She glances around cautiously and jumps when the Doctor suddenly lets out a shout.

“Jack!” A man sitting on a park bench nearby swivels around to look at them.

He’s classically handsome, with a chiseled jawline and a long coat that seems to rival the Doctor’s in terms of ostentatiousness. Probably some sort of time-traveller then. His eyes widen when he spots the blue box they’re standing next to.

“Doctor!” The man exclaims in a thick American accent, bounding up to them and grinning from ear to ear, smile like something out of an early Marlon Brando film. He grabs the Doctor by the shoulders, pulling her into a crushing hug before looking her up and down appreciatively. “ _Loving_ the new regeneration.” He turns to Yaz. “And who is _this?”_

“Don’t — just … don’t.” The Doctor shakes her head despairingly.

Yaz feels herself blush. “PC Yasmin Khan. Yaz to my friends.”

She holds out her hand to shake but instead the man favours dipping into a courtesy giving it a deft kiss.

“Pleased to meet you, _Yaz._ ‘Name’s Captain Jack Harkness. And I must say, you’re not looking too bad yourself, Doctor.” He shoots her a cheeky wink and gets nothing but a shake of the head and a bemused eye roll in response.

“So, what brings you to Cardiff?”

“We were looking for you, actually.” The Doctor says before adding with a knowing look. “Searching for someone with a bit less of a strict understanding of human sexuality than that which can be found on twenty-first century Earth. And also apparently twenty-third century Limnos 4.”

“Ah. No problem, Doc. I’ve got you covered.”

He turns to Yaz with a sympathetic tilt of the head. “You like coffee? I know a great place near here.” He gestures back towards the street with the back of his thumb.

The whole thing seems so practiced that Yaz gets the distinct impression that the Doctor has gone through this whole thing with past companions more than once before.

“Uh, yeah! Coffee sounds … good.” She shoots the Doctor a nervous look.

“Trust me, Yaz. You are in good hands. I would trust, and have on numerous occasions trusted, Captain Jack with my life.”

“Probably no life threatening altercations at Brodies Coffee Co., though.”

“No. Although you might want to watch out, Jack. I do hear Yaz here is coming up hot on your heels, rivalling you for the title of Universe’s Coolest Bisexual.”

Yaz feels herself blush as Captain Jack calls after the Doctor who is already heading back to the TARDIS, “You know I don’t like labels!”

What follows next is probably one of the most fascinating conversations of Yaz’ young life.

Over hot chocolate they talk about Captain Jack’s life, his past relationships, and adventures across the universe — and how even though he grew up in the fifty-first century where humanity’s views on sexuality are much more lax than they are in the twenty-first he’s had his fair share of struggles when it comes to time travel. They bond over double-standards and stereotypes and the ever consistent mantra of ‘it’s just a phase’ and by the end of it Yaz is feeling a lot better about well — _everything_.

And when the TARDIS finally rematerialises back in the park along with the Doctor, Ryan, and Graham, while Yaz is sad that she has to say goodbye, she finds herself looking around at the people in front of her suddenly struck with a feeling she hasn’t had in a long time. That no matter what happens there will _always_ be people out there, even half way across the universe, that she can turn to when she needs them.


End file.
